Mass Effect: In the Forgotten Time
by NothingSoSpecial
Summary: In this 1st-person narrative, Aelius Quentius, former military mechanic, Director of C-SEC's Special Forces, and Detective, tells his own life's story before, during, and after the Relay 314 Incident, and how it really affected the Citadel. Brutally honest and heart-wrenching, follow the first "Old Soldier" as he faces the turbulent aftermath of pride and tradition. Please R/R!
1. Confessions

**Mass Effect: In the Forgotten Time.**

**Summary: **"Aelius Quentius, the eccentric partner of Adelais Vakarian, and former Director of Special Forces, had an important role to play within the lives he touched- regardless of whether or not he ever knew it. Told in a 1st-person narrative of his very own, Quentius gives a brutally honest, sometimes heart-wrenching version of a Citadel no one wanted to admit existed before, during, and after the Relay 314 Incident; and how dangerous it once really was to not to stick to the status-quo. Stuck between inbred tradition, racism, and his own personal values and desire for peace without the violence that usually came with it, Quentius tells his own tale of corruption, personal success and failures; while occasionally saving lives and losing quite a few files along the way."

**Warning: **"Set before ME, this story focuses on the life and times of **Aelius Quentius**, Adelais Vakarian's partner in C-SEC, and while Adelais, Carissa, and scattered cannon-characters from ME, this story will mainly have the OC in the spotlight. **Also, this story will be "Rated T" for ****vulgar language, blood, violence, a few character deaths, references to child abuse/neglect, and other mature themes that may be disturbing and/or too much for our younger and/or immature readers. **You've been warned, so no mean emails in my Inbox this time, please."

**Disclaimer: "I do not own Mass Effect. Do not make me say it again."**

**Author's Note: **"The name **Aelius Quentius** literally means _"forth sun"_ in Latin. The name **Adelais** is _"Noble,"_ the name **"Carissa"** means _"the most beloved one,"_ and _**Caecilius**_ means _"blind one."_ Please be on the lookout for more of these Latin-based words, because they do have special meanings within the story."

**N._.S._.S**

**Chapter One: The Confession.**

**B****efore the Relay 314 Incident, everything used to be a little easier. **Sure, we Turians were supposed to pretty much hate everyone, especially the Krogan; the Salarians already hated the Krogan more than the constant jokes about their livers; the Asari thought they were better than everyone else and loved to make sure we were constantly reminded of the fact, and the other races, like the Elcor and Volus, were already on the Council's "ignore forever" list, but the thing was, all of that could have easily been forgotten about.

Unless, of course, you worked C-SEC in any way, shape, or form.

With that in mind, I wish I could tell you that C-SEC did what they were supposed to do before, during, and ultimately after what came to be known as the "Relay 314 Incident" (or the "First Contact War," to the Humans), but then I'd be lying; and if I did that, then the story I have to tell wouldn't be relevant anymore.

In all honesty, it became to be almost an unspoken rule that whoever the Council hated, C-SEC usually ended up blacklisting, deporting, arresting, or even just plain quietly discriminating against, regardless of if the people in question actually did anything wrong to begin with, and everyone knew it.

To tell the truth, I'm sure that somewhere along the line we were even more hated than the Council.

I don't remember when we became pawns of the Council, used to threaten or blacklist people they didn't like, as though we were another, slightly tamer version of the Spectres, that was long before my time, but, as I personally began to believe over the years, it had to have started with C-SEC's own creation-

We were _meant_ to be just another extension of the Council's growing power.

The story I have to tell isn't a pretty one. It has its roots deep within the unfair, racist traditions that became instilled within not only my race, but the other Council Races too, which began just after the Krogan Rebellion. It has to do with the blatant, terrible misuses of power, corruption, and other tactics used by members of Special Forces and Detective Units before Palin took office, and even try as he might, how he failed to dispose of it.

The things I witnessed, the things I was personally involved in, from my days of either directing the Elite Special Forces Task Group to my days making trouble as a mere Detective with my best friend, Adelais Vakarian, are not what you'd expect to find in your standard history book.

Because all what I am telling you took place in what I like to call "the forgotten time."

It was a time no one will ever want to ever admit existed.

Except me.

**N._.S._.S**


	2. The Beginning

**Mass Effect: In the Forgotten Time.**

**Summary: **"Aelius Quentius, the eccentric partner of Adelais Vakarian, and former Director of Special Forces, had an important role to play within the lives he touched- regardless of whether or not he ever knew it. Told in a 1st-person narrative of his very own, Quentius gives a brutally honest, sometimes heart-wrenching version of a Citadel no one wanted to admit existed before, during, and after the Relay 314 Incident; and how dangerous it once really was to not to stick to the status-quo. Stuck between inbred tradition, racism, and his own personal values and desire for peace without the violence that usually came with it, Quentius tells his own tale of corruption, personal success and failures; while occasionally saving lives and losing quite a few files along the way."

**Warning: **"Set before ME, this story focuses on the life and times of **Aelius Quentius**, Adelais Vakarian's partner in C-SEC, and while Adelais, Carissa, and scattered cannon-characters from ME, this story will mainly have the OC in the spotlight. **Also, this story will be "Rated T" for ****vulgar language, blood, violence, a few character deaths, references to child abuse/neglect, and other mature themes that may be disturbing and/or too much for our younger and/or immature readers. **You've been warned, so no mean emails in my Inbox this time, please."

**Disclaimer: "I do not own Mass Effect. Do not make me say it again."**

**Author's Note: **"The name **Aelius Quentius** literally means _"forth sun"_ in Latin. The name **Adelais** is _"Noble,"_ the name **"Carissa"** means _"the most beloved one,"_ and _**Caecilius**_ means _"blind one."_ Please be on the lookout for more of these Latin-based words, because they do have special meanings within the story."

**N._.S._.S**

**Chapter Two: The Beginning.**

**"A****elius! **Get in here and help me!"

I put down the datapad of past business transactions and left the shop's front desk, quickly making my way across the hall to the farthest storage garage, where I heard loud clanging (the all-too familiar sound of my dad hammering metal back into place), and the metallic hissing sound of the metal-laser, reshaping the inside of whatever was broken and making it run smoother and faster than before, and removing the parts that my dad found out-dated or too ramshackle to continue running.

My father was currently working under a relatively large military vehicle. It looked like it had recently been through hell; though I couldn't imagine who or what could have done so much damage- or how dad could have possibly gotten the beast in here without help in the first place.

The vehicle was huge, taking up nearly the entire space of our largest garage (which was saying something) and it was unlike any vehicle I was used to working with, though _that_ wasn't surprising to me in the least, considering I'd been on the Citadel for most of my life.

I was born in a rather remote, sheltered part of Palaven and moved to the Citadel with my father, Eulalius Quentius, at the age of five when he decided to move his mechanics shop to a better, wealthier marketplace. As there were few skilled Turian mechanics like my father on the Citadel in the lower parts of the Wards, business naturally bloomed into a respectful corner shop within a year or two, and as his only child, I learned the trade by a young age and often "manned the front" during the busier months.

Or occasionally helped him on a real job.

Dad was still under the Turian-made vehicle when I stepped into the room, and I was greeted by a stiff-looking Turian with dark face-paint in the corner, who gave me an odd, skeptical glare before retuning his attention to my father, who didn't seem to notice. He rolled out from underneath the vehicle and motioned me over.

"I need the hot tools from Milo across the Ward," he informed me as I approached, "he already knows you're heading over. So go up there, get the tools, and bring them back here as quickly as possible." With that, dad pushed himself back under the massive truck and continued hammering away.

I nodded, turned on my heel, and headed out again- the "hot tools" were what my dad called the welding ones; the ones that put together and remolded broken gears or dented areas, and Milo Lebuin was my dad's old friend from the time we first got to the Citadel; he was the one who helped my dad set up shop and get him started with the permits and gave him a few pointers for the shop.

He and my dad still go out drinking together once a month at Chora's Den.

If he needed _those_, then this must be a pretty important job.

As I headed out of the room, the Turian watching my dad work looked over at me again; this time with a meaner, nastier look on his face. I shot him a swift _'don't mess with me'_ look in return, making the soldier fold his arms tightly across his chest disapprovingly; which I duly ignored, but reciprocated with a slam of the metallic door as I left.

Like my father had promised, Milo was waiting for me in the higher part of the Wards in his own shop and gave me an approving nod as I walked in, "If it isn't my friend Aelius," he greeted me, bending over behind his counter to heave up the familiar-looking box of welding tools up onto the counter with a heavy thud.

"What does the old man need these for anyway?" He asked as I hefted it up onto my shoulder, "He reshaping some kind of aircraft or something?"

"Not quite," I answered, "It's some kind of military tank. It's huge, and it looks like it's fresh off the field."

At that, Milo looked surprised. "A tank? _Military_ tank, you say? Well I'll be _damned_," he said in awe, "Your dad _always_ did get the big jobs, I guess, but now I'm just _jealous_. A military_ tank. Wow_."

I waved and headed off as Milo continued his wows of amazement and pulled out his Omni-tool (most likely to call my dad and snip at him for not letting him come to take a look before he started) as I left.

The crate was heavy on my shoulder and I ended up shifting it several times before I actually got back to the shop, scratching the dark green armor I'd just spent a good half-hour scrubbing that morning thanks to an oil spill (and dad) last night.

The unfriendly Turian was still standing by the door as I walked in, and gave me yet another menacing look as I set the tools down on the messy, oily counter on the other side of the tank. My dad was still under, working on something that kept fizzling and flashing, and I could hear him talking to Milo on his Omni-tool.

"… _yeah, it's military, all right. I've got an officer here to boot… yes; I know… Did Aelius come in yet...? Oh, he just left…? How long ago? Okay, thanks, Milo. I'll return them to you when I'm finished here... yes, by tomorrow."_ At that moment, dad rolled out from under the vehicle, saw me, and gave me an approving look.

"Good, you're here," he said, standing up. "You can do the welding this time."

I stared at him blankly. _"What?"_

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the Officer in the corner look similarly stunned.

"You're nineteen now," dad replied, "besides, I've got a few things to discuss with…" he turned over to the now calmer-looking officer, "What did you say your name was?"

"Victus," he replied, "My name is Sostratus Victus."

I saw dad's dark-green eyes narrow a bit. "The General?"

Sostratus Victus nodded slightly, "Yes, sir."

Dad clapped me on the shoulder and his eyes softened suddenly, "All right, General Victus. My son will take care of the remaining defects and you and I will talk outside."

The General gave me one last odd look, and headed out.

"Good luck!" Dad saluted me on the way out, "I expect nothing less than perfect."

I turned my head to look over, back at him, and shot him my best glare as the door slammed.

**N._.S._.S**

**"G****ood work, Aelius. **Spirits, I think I might've finally managed to teach you a thing or two." Dad was saying proudly as he inspected the truck, which I'd just finished washing off, "Look at that shine," he looked over at General Victus, "All right, I think we're done here, General."

Victus gave us an approving look. "Good. I'll have someone come in tomorrow to haul it off and deliver the payment we discussed. And…" he looked thoughtful for a minute as he looked at the truck, "you can both rest assured that the Hierarchy will be most pleased with you and your son's work here."

That had to be the first time anyone ever said that to my dad or me.

As Victus turned silently on his heels and left the shop without another word, my father and I headed back out to the front. As soon as the General was out of sight, I rounded on my dad in excitement.

"Did you hear what he said?"

Dad gave me an odd look as he pulled out the datapad listing the repairs done on the vehicle and added a few other things, "What are you talking about, Aelius?"'

"_'The Hierarchy will be most pleased with you and your son's work here,'_" I reminded him, "That's got to be something to be proud of."

"And?"

I shook my head, "Dad, it was a _General _who said that to us."

Dad put down the datapad and folded his arms, giving me a serious look. _"And?"_

"Don't you think him saying what he did was an honor?"

"An honor?" Dad looked even a bit annoyed at that, "Why should it be?"

Before I could respond, Milo entered the shop. He saw us and nodded to my dad, "It went well then?" He asked, as I jumped up excitedly to meet him.

"He was impressed," I reported.

Milo's brow-plates rose and he looked over at dad, who shrugged in his usual _'it was nothing'_ manner.

"How am I the _only_ one who thought what he said was amazing?" I demanded as Milo and my dad both deftly pulled out their Omni-tools at the same time, shooting each other darkly amused looks.

Neither one of them even bothered to reply.

**N._.S._.S**


End file.
